Perfect Partners?

by C. J. Carmichael

  He took another step and then he touched her. Just a hand to her chin, encouraging her to lift her head. When she did, she found it impossible to look away from his eyes. They were so warm and compelling. She could feel the heat from his body. Something chemical was happening here. Like mixing blue and yellow and creating green, only in this case, a whole rainbow of colors was telescoping in front of her.

  She sensed he was planning to kiss her. But his phone rang, at exactly the wrong moment. Or maybe it was the right moment. With obvious reluctance, he took a step away from her and dug the phone from his back pocket.

  “Fisher.”

  Lindsay had no intention of listening to his call. She was already at the door before he spoke again.

  “Yes. I could make it in an hour.”

  She couldn’t help herself from giving him a curious glance. A few seconds later, he disconnected the call and his obvious discomfort only fueled her interest.

  And suddenly she knew. The call had been from Celia Burchard.

  CELIA HAD SUGGESTED A coffee shop for their meeting…a place they had frequented for “morning after” breakfast when they’d been dating.

  Not a good choice, Nathan thought as he settled at a table for two and looked over the familiar menu. He’d arrived a few minutes early, even though he knew Celia typically ran about fifteen minutes behind schedule. Punctuality was a habit he just couldn’t shake.

  Celia surprised him by arriving exactly when she’d said she would. She turned heads as she entered the café, blond hair swinging about her shoulders, her tanned skin glowing against the light blue of her casual dress. As he stood to greet her, he knew half the guys in the room were envying him, yet as she leaned in for a kiss he was careful to aim for her cheek.

  “Nice to see you, Celia. What’s up?”

  His tone was casual, almost cool, and Celia seemed taken aback. He felt less than chivalrous, but lately Celia had been giving mixed signals and he wanted to make sure she understood that their relationship now was only about business.

  “Dad called me right after your meeting. He said he’d cooperated but that I shouldn’t expect anything more from him. Was it awful?”

  “Not so bad, but he did seem a little put out at having to talk to us. Still, he gave us his side of the story, which doesn’t differ that much from your mom’s version, at least as far as the shooting goes. His story about the marriage is a different matter, though.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He said that your mother values the marriage more for the social status it affords her, than for him.”

  “That is so not true. I can’t believe he said that.”

  “Celia, how can you know for sure? Parents tend to hide their problems from their children.”

  “They didn’t hide the times I saw them laughing together. Or playing with me on the beach. Or watching TV snuggled on the couch. Are you telling me they were only acting?”

  Nathan sighed wearily. He didn’t want to destroy Celia’s memories of her childhood. He wasn’t even sure it mattered whether the marriage had been happy or not. The point was, for one reason or another, Maurice had decided to end it. And his wife had shot him.

  A server stopped at their table and they ordered coffees. Nathan watched Celia as she elaborated on the preparation of her mocha latte, the type of milk and the degree to which she wanted it heated. Chocolate shavings and also a sprinkle of cinnamon. Her smile was sweet, her eyes sparkled. The server, who was male, responded to her easy charm and Nathan wasn’t surprised when Celia’s latte arrived with a complimentary biscotto on the side.

  Celia picked up the long biscuit and dipped the chocolate-coated end into her drink.

  “I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t here to help me right now.”

  “I’m sure you’d manage, though I’m glad to be of help. I like your mother, and I hate to think of her spending time in…an institution. But we have to be realistic. You need to be prepared that this won’t end as happily as you’d like.”

  “I just want Mom to have the best defense possible. And to do that I need to be sure we’ve uncovered all the facts. Maybe Mom and Dad seem to agree about what happened, but my mom wouldn’t shoot someone on purpose. I refuse to believe it.”

  “Celia…”

  “Just promise you’ll stay on the case. Keep investigating. Try to find something that will help.”

  “We might just as easily discover something you’d rather not know.”

  “It’s hard to imagine the situation being any worse than it already is.” She touched his arm. “Thank you, Nathan. Mom told me that I’d be able to count on you. And she was right.”

  Nathan leaned back into his chair, uncomfortable with the warm smile Celia was giving him. His discomfort mounted when Celia’s hand slid down his arm to his hand.

  “Do you ever wonder if breaking up was a mistake?”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  OH, NO. NATHAN PULLED AT the collar of his shirt suddenly finding the room hot and close.

  “We had a lot of fun when we were together,” Celia pressed.

  Yes, they’d had fun. Celia was a happy, easygoing person. In the time they’d dated, he’d found her pleasant and uncomplicated.

  “But you’re also a good man, the kind that a woman can depend on. My mother keeps telling me how important that is.”

  Oh, great. He had a lot of admiration for Audrey, but he wished in this one case, she had just kept her mouth shut.

  “You and I were never that serious…”

  “Maybe that was our mistake.”

  “I’m not sure we made a mistake. What we had was good, though we both know it wasn’t meant for the long haul.”

  She opened her mouth, but he didn’t give her a chance to dispute him. “You’re a lovely woman. It’s not fair for me to tie you up, when your Mr. Right is out there looking for you.”

  “Are you still angry because I broke up with you? You know I was upset about what happened with my parents…it didn’t have anything to do with what the newspapers were saying about you.”

  Maybe that was true. But she’d been happy to lean on him for support until the publication of the first negative article.

  But he had no interest in making her feel guilty. Even at the time he’d known she wasn’t a woman he’d want around when the going got tough.

  “Celia, your life is chaos right now. This isn’t the time to get involved in a relationship again.”

  She sighed. “Maybe you’re right. I used to think of my family as responsible to the point of being dull. I wish they had stayed that way.”

  “Life will eventually regain its balance. In the meantime you need to focus on giving your mom moral support. And Lindsay and I will focus on our investigation.”

  “Lindsay. How did you end up working with her?”

  He explained that they had once been partners and how he had noticed her ad in the paper, and Celia seemed to accept the story at face value. She finished her cookie, then remembering an appointment with her hair dresser, left him with her cooling latte and the bill. Nathan watched her go. Long, tan legs, sun-streaked hair.

  He supposed he should feel a measure of regret that he would never make love to the beautiful woman again, but all he felt was relief.

  NATHAN SPENT THE REST OF HIS day on the computer and the phone, taking care of the other cases Lindsay had given him, but also finding out additional information about the Burchards.

  At seven-thirty he went home to put on a suit, something bland that wouldn’t attract attention. He checked his reflection in the bathroom mirror, wondering what he could do to disguise his appearance. He donned a pair of dark-framed glasses, changed the part in his hair, and counted on dim lighting to take care of the rest.

  On his way out, he stuck his head into the bedroom where Mary-Beth was putting his nephew to sleep. Justin immediately started to cry.

  “I guess my disguise is better than I thought. Sorry, sis.”

 
At the sound of his uncle’s familiar voice, Justin grew quiet. Mary-Beth hugged him close and shook her head at Nathan. “What’s with the glasses? And the hair?”

  “It’s just a job. I’ll catch you later.” He took the subway to The Orange Tree and arrived five minutes early. True to the restaurant’s name, an orange tree dominated the center of the room, the branches offering alcoves of privacy for the tables. A quick survey of the place confirmed that Maurice and his party were not yet present.

  As Lindsay had requested, Nathan was directed to a table at the back of the restaurant, by a set of double doors to the kitchen. As he neared the table, he paused, startled to see a woman with long, dark hair already sitting there.

  He was about to tell the maître d’ that there’d been a mistake, when he recognized the woman’s firmly set mouth.

  Holy cow. He grinned and sat opposite her.

  “I like the new look.” Discreetly, he checked out the short black dress, the sleek high heels. “I like it a lot.”

  Besides the dark wig, Lindsay had altered her appearance with the heavy use of mascara and eyeliner. She reminded him of Uma Thurman’s character in Pulp Fiction.

  “Back off, Fisher. Remember, I have a black belt.”

  “Kinky. Want to try one of your moves on me?”

  She put out a warning hand. “I could flatten you.”

  “Maybe you could.” And suddenly he realized it was possible. This woman, with her issues and her complications, fascinated him more than any woman he’d ever met.

  If he wasn’t careful, she could sink him.

  And he’d only just dragged himself up from the last knockout punch.

  Nathan grabbed his water and took a long, sobering drink. Of all the women to fall for, his new partner was not the one.

  He straightened his tie, then noticed Lindsay was riveted by something at the front of the restaurant. Of course, she’d taken the seat facing the entrance, leaving him to check out the action in the kitchen.

  “What’s going on?” he asked. “Did Burchard show up?”

  “He’s just arrived. With the most…incredible redhead on his arm.”

  Not wanting to blow their cover by turning and gawking, Nathan shifted subtly in his chair, then, under the guise of leaning closer to Lindsay, snuck a sideways look.

  “Oh, my God.”

  “Isn’t she something?”

  She certainly was. Maurice’s date—and clearly that was exactly what she was—was all curves and smooth skin in an emerald silk dress that played up her hair and her pouty red lips to perfection.

  “And I thought you were the hottest woman in the room.”

  Something jabbed his shin. “Ouch.” Those shoes of hers were lethal.

  Lindsay narrowed her eyes. “I’d say she’s mid-thirties. A good fifteen years younger than him.” She shook her head, disgusted.

  “The rich men have all the luck, huh?”

  “Call me crazy but this redhead doesn’t look like any businesswoman I’ve ever met.”

  He knew what she meant. Any woman could glam herself up for an evening, but this lady oozed sex appeal…the kind that usually was only available at certain after-hours clubs.

  “I spent the afternoon digging up as much as I could about Maurice and his business dealings. I found lists of the people who sit on various boards with him, the top executives at his firm. In most cases there were pictures, but none of them looked anything like her.”

  “Where do you think she came from?”

  “I wish I had a clue.”

  Lindsay wrinkled her nose. “She sure isn’t subtle. She’s all over Burchard. And he’s loving it.”

  “Seems like they each have something the other one wants.”

  “She has sex and he has money,” Lindsay agreed.

  “A match made in New York City.”

  “And at Audrey Burchard’s expense. According to her, their marriage was on solid footing just eight months ago.”

  “Until Hurricane Redhead came on the scene.”

  “She may have nothing to do with what happened between Maurice and Audrey the day of the shooting,” Lindsay said. “Still, it would be interesting to know how long she and Burchard have been seeing one another and where she was that day.”

  “There are a lot of things about that woman that would be interesting to find out.”

  Lindsay stiffened, like a hunting dog who’d just caught a scent. “I believe the seductress is headed for the ladies’ room. And would you look at that—she’s carrying a black clutch, too. I believe this is my opening—”

  Nathan risked another glance. Maurice was by himself at the table, his gaze following his date’s progress across the room.

  Meanwhile Lindsay opened her handbag, removed her identification, which she handed to Nathan, then palmed her camera.

  “Wish me luck.” She smiled at him, then followed their mark into the washroom.

  DESPITE THE FACT THAT SHE WAS in hot pursuit of a surveillance subject, Lindsay was very aware of Nathan as she left their table. She was one hundred percent certain his eyes were on her backside as she made her way to the restroom on the other side of the restaurant.

  The stretch fabric of her dress clung to her skin as she moved, and her legs felt extra long in the four-inch heels she’d chosen for the night. If she’d been smarter, she would have picked a different disguise for the evening. Something frumpy and dull.

  But you didn’t. So what do you suppose that means?

  Was she encouraging Nathan’s interest…if so, was that wise?

  Setting aside the uncomfortable questions for the moment, Lindsay took a deep breath then pushed open the door to the washroom. Adrenaline hummed through her body, kicking her senses into action mode.

  The room was dimly lit, thankfully, with two porcelain sinks set into a long marble countertop. Beyond the sinks were three washroom stalls, the doors louvered in a rich mahogany-colored wood.

  Maurice’s date was standing by one of the mirrors, checking the skin under her eyes for smudges. Her handbag was on the counter next to the sink. A quick glance at close-up range gave Lindsay a couple more facts to add to the file.

  The hair was dyed, the boobs were fake and the lips had been colored over the line.

  She went to the next mirror, removed her own lipstick from her purse and made a quick touch-up. The second the redhead turned to reach for a paper towel, Lindsay snatched her small black bag, leaving her own purse on the counter, and headed to a washroom stall.

  Once inside she worked quickly. The redhead’s purse didn’t hold much. A lipstick, a tissue and a single key. In a small zipper compartment she found a folded hundred dollar bill, an American Express credit card and a business card. The name on both pieces of identification was the same: Paige Stevens.

  Lindsay snapped a photograph of the cards, using the sound of the flushing toilet to mask the click and flash of the camera.

  “Excuse me?” Paige Stevens was speaking, her tone tinged with annoyance. “I believe you took my purse.”

  “I’m so sorry. My mistake.” Lindsay emerged from the stall, shaking her head with faked consternation. With a tight smile, Paige exchanged handbags with her. She opened the small bag, checked the contents, then swung out of the ladies’ room on a huff of disapproval.

  Lindsay paused a moment to check her reflection. Her cheeks were splashed with color and her eyes sparkled. She couldn’t hide her elation. Damn, but that had been fun.

  “A SOCIAL SECURITY CARD would have been much more helpful. Even a date of birth. I could really find stuff with a date of birth.”

  Nathan passed the camera back to her and Lindsay tucked it safely into her purse. “We’ve got a hell of a lot more than we did at the beginning of the evening,” she pointed out.

  They were on to the dessert course now, prolonging their meal while the lovebirds gazed into one another’s eyes. Anticipating the need to make a quick getaway, Nathan had already handed his credit card to their server
. A moment later it was returned in a leather folder with a pen.

  As Nathan signed, Lindsay said, “Save the receipt for Nadine. She’ll make sure you’re refunded at the end of the month.”

  Nathan paused. “No need. Dinner’s on me. We can call this our first date.”

  Lindsay almost choked on the mouthful of red wine she’d just imbibed. She grabbed her napkin from her lap and covered her mouth. Once she’d recovered, she said, “We’re spying on a married man and his illicit lover, I just switched handbags with said lover to get a copy of her identification, and now we’re waiting for them to leave so we can follow them home. Some date.”

  “It may not be everyone’s idea of a good time, but it works for me.”

  She had to laugh. One point she had to give him. He looked good enough to be on a date. Who would have guessed Nathan Fisher could wear a suit and tie with such style? The glasses were a great touch, giving him an intellectual look that actually suited his personality.

  Lindsay tensed as she noticed movement from Maurice and Paige’s table. “They’re leaving,” she whispered. “Hurry up and grab that receipt. They’re almost at the door.”

  Nathan finished penning his signature, then rushed around to pull her chair from the table. “Couldn’t you have given me a little more notice?”

  “I was…distracted.” She sucked in her breath as his hand settled on the curve of her lower back. Like she was going to admit she’d been ogling him.

  Together they wove between tables, past the verdant orange tree and out to the street.

  Her mind grew sharper in the cooler air, and she jostled for position amid the crowds of people. They were just a few blocks off Broadway and a show must have let out only minutes ago because the streets were jammed.

  “This way,” Nathan said, grabbing her hand.

  Progress was slow, but at least they managed to move faster than the taxis and limos stalled on the roads.

  “I see them,” Nathan said, his mouth inches from her ear. He pointed west and then pulled Lindsay close while he muscled his way through the crowd.